


A Scattered Dream

by XxXxDarkVampirexXxX



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Drama & Romance, Eventual Smut, I don't know what else to tag, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-18
Updated: 2018-01-26
Packaged: 2019-03-06 12:37:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13411419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/XxXxDarkVampirexXxX/pseuds/XxXxDarkVampirexXxX
Summary: A discussion in a Muggle playground leads to revelations, which ends up changing the war in most every way, for the better in some minds, and for the worse in others. 'Have you ever considered simply leaving?' 'Leaving?' AU summer after fifth year! Slash fic!





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Yo! This was meant to be a oneshot, which turned into a twoshot, which became a threeshot, and eventually ended up as a fourshot. I've already written the first three chapters, and have started the fourth. There may also be an epilogue at the end, but I'm not sure yet-it'll depend on how chapter four ends. Chapters one and two are basically gen. Chapter three references the pairing. Chapter four will just be smut because it's an excuse to practice writing it.
> 
> This starts off during the summer after fifth year and before sixth year. There's mentions of the prophecy, and Sirius is, unfortunately, dead. By the time the smut happens, Harry is seventeen. Everything is canon before where this starts, and AU after.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of its characters...

It was a chilly, dreary day in the middle of July, the clouds overhead dark and thick. It wasn't going to surprise anyone if it suddenly began to rain. Maybe that was why the playground near Privet Drive was nearly devoid of life. Nearly, because there was only one person there-a teenage boy with messy dark hair, tired green eyes, broken glasses, and clothes far too big for him.

Harry Potter sat on one of the two swings, an arm coiled around the chain, staring out at nothing as he slowly rocked back and forth, his torn trainers scuffing against the sand below him.

Wanting to get away from his  _perfect_  relatives for a little while, he had left the house, expecting to be stopped before he could even reach the drive. But he hadn't been. He had expected to be stopped before he could even reach the end of the street. But he hadn't been. He had expected to be stopped before he could even reach the playground. But he hadn't been.

The Order guard had been removed, he assumed. Either that or Mundungus was on duty again. But it didn't matter either way. He hadn't been stopped, so he had come to the park and settled on one of the swings. He wanted to be alone, wanted to think.

There really wasn't much on his mind though-nothing was, really. He already wasn't feeling well in so many different ways. Thinking was only going to make all that worse, he knew.

But even then, thinking or not, he decided he was going to stay out here for as long as he could. He didn't like being stuck at Privet Drive. Hated being stuck inside Number Four even more. So even if he was still pretty close, at least he was away.

It didn't really make much sense, but did anything anymore? Had anything ever? Would anything ever? ...Probably not.

Someone sat down on the swing beside his, and it was only now that Harry was pulled out of his stupor. He glanced over, curious but disinterested at the same time, wondering who would want to be anywhere near the Potter delinquent. Most everyone around here avoided him like the plague. No, avoided him more than that, because people had done a rather poor job in avoiding plagues.

A laugh left him when he saw who it was-a quiet laugh that quickly became louder and more breathless. Harry laughed until he choked and, gasping for breath, wiped the tears from under his glasses.

"Haaa... Well, what brings  _you_  all the way over here?"

"I was simply in the neighbourhood is all."

"Mmhmm. That's cool."

"...Are you alright, Potter? You seem to be rather...out of it."

"Yeah? That's probably the concussion. I thought I might have one."

"Why in Salazar's name would you be concussed?"

Harry shrugged vaguely. "That's what happens when you get hit in the head with a frying pan in the morning, then kicked down a flight of stairs in the evening."

"That's-"

There was a silence, a faint rumble sounding in the distance. Was it about to start thundering? Harry was going to have to move if it did. He didn't really feel like getting struck by lightning today. He smiled wryly, flattening the fringe over the scar on his forehead.

"Why are you really here, Voldemort?" he voiced finally, and even  _he_  could hear how tired-how defeated he sounded.

"As I already stated, I was simply in the neighbourhood."

"Looking for me, I assume?"

"Not quite. I was searching for a poorly concealed Order member, though it appears there are none to be found."

"Hmm, yeah you won't find any here. They dropped the guard this summer."

"Why so?"

"How should I know?"

The Dark Lord raised a non-existent brow. "I assumed you would, considering you are the one they are, or were guarding. You are, after all, the Boy-Who-Lived. No doubt that is enough to want to keep you safe."

Harry scoffed. "You're acting as if being who I am somehow means they should actually be telling me things. They don't, by the way."

"Don't?"

"Don't tell me things-tell me anything, really. I'm just a  _child_ , too  _young_  to know what's happening in the war. Heh, I have to nearly get myself killed just to gain a  _sliver_  of information."

They were quiet again, both of them, the rumbles of thunder in the distance growing a little louder, though still sounding infrequently.

"Why do you fight?" questioned Voldemort.

"What?"

"Why do you fight for them? For the Light? They refuse to give you information, refuse to answer your questions, and force you to remain in what is very clearly an unhealthy environment. Why do you simply do as they say? Why do you allow them to use you as they see fit?"

Harry frowned and stared at the monkey bars he had never been able to use. "I didn't think I had much of a choice."

"No?"

Harry didn't answer at first. He continued staring at the monkey bars, thinking his answer through. He didn't have a choice-never had. He had always known that, but hadn't really put much thought into it until recently.

If the Dark Lord was at all impatient to hear what the teen had to say, he didn't show it. He simply sat there on the swing beside him, remaining still and quiet. He had even clearly reigned his strong, dark magic in, because Harry couldn't even feel it. That was nice.

"Did..."

"Yes?"

Harry cleared his throat. "Did you know that I learned I was a wizard on my eleventh birthday?" He didn't wait for an answer. Didn't really expect one either. "That day, I learned magic existed. I learned I was a wizard. I learned my parents had been murdered and not killed in a car accident. I learned that I was the Boy-Who-Lived. And I learned I was somehow your enemy, even though I didn't know you."

Voldemort didn't speak. He made a strange sight though, tall, thin, pale, hairless, noseless, red eyes, dressed in a dark robe, his long, sharp nailed hand gripping the chain as he sat on the swing in this Muggle children's playground.

"Right from the beginning, it was expected for me to fight against you. No one ever explained anything when I asked them questions either. It was like- _is_  like being with the Dursleys. I'm not allowed to ask them questions." He frowned up at the sky when he caught sight of a flash of lightning in the distance. "Why am I fighting, huh? Heh, wish I knew. I didn't make a decision to fight. It was expected."

"Is this what you want then, Harry? To fight? To fight the Dark? To fight me?"

Harry glanced at him, then back up at the sky. "I think a better question would be, 'Do I have to fight?' Getting what I want isn't realistic. I know that."

"Do you have to fight? I don't believe you do, if taking part in this war is something you don't desire."

The teen huffed out an amused laugh. "Do you think I can just go up to Dumbledore and the Order and tell them I'm not going to fight for them just because I don't want to?" he questioned.

It was a rhetorical question, of course, and Voldemort knew it too, but he ended up answering anyway. "Have you ever considered simply leaving?"

"Leaving?"

"Leaving the Light. Leaving the Order. Leaving Dumbledore. Leaving and allowing the adults to battle the war they should not be allowing those underage to participate in, let alone  _for_  them."

"But... But I can't just not do  _anything_!"

"Why not? What have they done for you? How have they helped you?"

"Not  _all_  of them are like that though!" Harry protested. "Some of them  _do_  care."

"Then why have they not done anything to aid you?"

"They can't. They try to do what they can, but they know it isn't enough."

"And why can they not do more?"

Harry sighed inwardly. Honestly, he didn't even know why he was answering all these questions. He supposed the answer was simple though. He just didn't care anymore. Didn't care what this led to, even if it was his own death. "They're the ones who are secretly neutral in the war. They're against what you're after, but don't agree with Dumbledore either. But they don't think you'll hear them out if they came to you, and being under Dumbledore's protection is better than nothing. They don't want to leave me alone either, so I guess there's that too."

Harry didn't notice, but a look of surprise crossed over the Dark Lord's face. This certainly was not what he had expected to hear when he had found the boy in this playground.

"Do you believe they would be willing to meet with me to discuss terms?" he inquired finally.

Harry blinked and turned his head to look at him, finally taking his eyes off the increasingly darkening sky. "Terms?"

Voldemort inclined his head. "Terms on what they would and would not do or take part in, on what my and their own goals are, on who will and won't be off limits in being harmed."

"Are-" Harry hesitated, bit the inside of his cheek, then said, "Are you offering them a chance to join you?"

Red eyes searched green carefully. "Would you cease fighting for the Light if those you care for are safe under the protection of the Dark?"

Harry's eyes narrowed. "You're not asking me to fight for your side instead, are you?"

"No, I am not. If you wish to no longer take part in this battle, then you should be able to do so-especially as you are currently underage. Once you turn seventeen, then you can always rethink your position and decide whether or not you are prepared to fight."

"And if the answer is no? If I turn seventeen, and decide I still don't want to fight?"

"Then you may remain neutral. Your personal stance should not be influenced by another. It should be your decision, and yours alone."

Harry flinched at a particularly loud and sudden clap of thunder, and looked up at the sky again. "If you can swear they won't be harmed in any way, I think they'll be happy to meet with you and talk things through."

"Then I will be pleased to hear what they have to say and offer."

Harry inclined his head. It was getting kind of foggy in the distance. Was it raining over there? "Do you really believe in prophecies?"

"I do not."

"Huh? Then why did you-?"

"I lost my mind. Quite literally." He sounded rather amused as he spoke. Amused, but not in the sense that he thought this was actually funny. "Yes, I lost my mind, and my soul. Recently however, I was able to get them back. I regained my sanity in many ways. Mostly, at least. I have no belief in Divination. I did not before I lost what I had, and do not now, now that I have it back."

He wasn't explaining it fully, meaning there was obviously something there he didn't particularly want to share just yet, but Harry didn't care. What he had heard was enough. It wasn't like he was looking for an apology or anything. That was only going to demean everything that had happened. Demean what had happened to his parents, to Sirius, to him.

It started to drizzle, and Harry looked down to spare his glasses. He was going to have to return to Number Four soon. If he got there after the storm hit, he would be locked outside. Again.

He sighed deeply. "I don't want to go back," he muttered, half to himself.

"Harry?"

He sighed again. "My relatives. I don't want to go back there. I  _hate_  being there."

"Is there nowhere else you can go?"

The teen shrugged. "Not really."

"I see... You may come with me, if you prefer."

Eyes widening, Harry looked at him. "With you?"

Voldemort inclined his head. "There are no Death Eaters in my manor currently. You will be safe there. And from there you can write to your friends to inform them that you are safe, and perhaps set a date for them to come see you and meet with me in turn, so that we all may discuss terms, as I said earlier."

And it was stupid, in a funny sort of way, that Harry was actually seriously considering it. Not just considering, but leaning towards it too. He didn't know when things had changed, when he had gone from blindly following Dumbledore, to questioning everything, but he had a vague feeling it had something to do with his godfather's death.

He felt like this was what Sirius would have wanted. Not him joining Voldemort or anything, just questioning- _really_  questioning things. Questioning everything. He had never done that before. He did blame the Dursleys for that. Their punishments had made him fear asking questions, to a certain extent, and he hadn't really realized that that was something that had bled through to those in the wizarding world as well.

He hadn't had the chance to spend much time with his godfather, hadn't known him all that well, but he was positive, without a doubt, that this was exactly what Sirius wanted him to do. Think on his own.

The drizzle turned to a downpour, and the rumbling of thunder grew louder and more frequent, lightning finally beginning to flash overhead. Harry had to make a decision, and he had to make it now.

"Alright," he spoke finally. "I'll go with you."

"Oh?"

He nodded. "I know it's really only going to create more problems, but I don't care. I-"

"Harry?"

"I want to be selfish for once," he forced out. "I want to do this for  _me_. I mean, it'll be nice if my friends and you can reach an agreement, but I want this for me. I don't want to fight anymore. I don't want to be used. I don't want to go back to the Dursleys again, no matter how much I beg not to. Dumbledore doesn't care. I know he doesn't. He probably never did. Or maybe he does, and he's just really,  _really_  bad at showing it. But I don't care."

Voldemort smiled. It looked kind of eerie, but it was definitely supposed to be a smile. "I believe you are making a very wise decision. A difficult one, no doubt, but wise." He got off the swing and moved to stand in front of the teen. He held out a hand towards him. "Come, Harry. To a place where you can finally be safe."

Harry peered at him closely, and then nodded firmly. Uncoiling his arm from the swing's chain, he accepted the hand and rose to his feet...


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A discussion in a Muggle playground leads to revelations, which ends up changing the war in most every way, for the better in some minds, and for the worse in others. 'Have you ever considered simply leaving?' 'Leaving?' AU summer after fifth year! Slash fic!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yo! Guys, after the crazy response I got for the first chapter, I feel like everyone's going to be disappointed by how I did the rest of it. I guess I should have explained this earlier, but this isn't going to be a long fic at all, four chapters and an epilogue as I said before, but all the chapters (except four (because smut is hard to write) and the epilogue) will be around the same length, give or take a couple hundred words. Things also won't be all too detailed, because I'm going through them fairly quickly. I wrote this literally for the sake of just writing SOMETHING. I've been incredibly stressed recently-more so than usual, and have had a migraine at some point every day for the past twenty days (four more days and I'll break my old record). So I haven't really been doing very much. But I really wanted to write something, more for my own sake, really, and had no inspiration for anything already posted. So I just started writing, and then this fic happened. There was no plan in mind at all. I just wrote and when I went back through the first three chapters, realized I actually really liked it, so I decided to post it. Also, a number of people mentioned Harry getting his belongings-that's addressed in this chapter. Anyway, thank you to all readers so far!

A month had passed. The end of August was in sight, and for the first time in his life, Harry Potter was looking forward to  _not_  going to school. He should have been preparing to return to Hogwarts in September to begin his sixth year, but he wasn't going to be doing that. It was too dangerous.

He was surprised at how well things had gone since he had accepted Voldemort's hand that chilly, dreary day in July. He had expected there to be so many problems, so many complicated conflicts, and while there certainly  _had_  been some issues, most everything had been resolved fairly quickly.

That day, after Voldemort had brought Harry to his manor, the teen had immediately been healed of his few injuries (which hadn't included a concussion, fortunately), then sent off to take a bath and warm up, after which he had been given a set of clothing that was a bit big for him, but nowhere near as big as Dudley's, and a hot meal-the first thing he had eaten in just over twenty four hours. And in just an hour, Voldemort had done more for him than the Dursleys ever had over a period of about fourteen or fifteen years.

That night, Voldemort had returned to Privet Drive on his own, and using the information Harry had given him, gathered the teen's important belongings from Number Four, to ensure the Dursleys didn't manage to somehow destroy anything of value, if they decided to try at all. There wasn't much. The Invisibility Cloak, the Marauders' Map, the photo album, the Firebolt, the wand, the two way mirror, the special knife, and the Weasley jumpers. Those were the only things Voldemort took with him before leaving-the only things Harry had asked him to get.*

Harry knew the Dursleys wouldn't notice those things missing unless they really looked, and he knew they wouldn't, because they were too scared to touch his stuff. Everything else were things that could be replaced-pretty much all of it school things that he wasn't going to need anymore, because he knew almost immediately that he wasn't going to be going back. With Hedwig being taken care of by the Weasley twins (she would have just been locked up by his uncle again otherwise), Harry knew he didn't have to worry about her. In fact, she turned up at the manor on her own just two days later, and seemed to have become quite close to Xander, Voldemort's owl that Nagini had, for some strange reason, been adamant to name. (Bizarrely, hearing that name had Draco Malfoy blushing like a schoolgirl, according to Voldemort. No one had any idea why.)

After that, Harry and Voldemort had sat down and  _really_  talked things out. The Dark Lord had told him what his goals were, what he wanted, what had been and was going right or wrong. And Harry had told him more about his life, his childhood with the Dursleys, his years at Hogwarts.

Voldemort had been surprised and a little perturbed to learn Harry was a Parselmouth, and had spent the next few days doing research, only to return to the teen with the information that he had, completely by accident, turned him into his Horcrux when he had attacked him as a baby.

Harry had been shocked to hear that, even more so when he had learned what exactly that meant, and while he knew all this meant he should have been deeply disturbed by the knowledge, he found that he just...wasn't.

If this was true, then he had been like this for what, fifteen years or thereabouts? It didn't seem to have affected him negatively in any way, and had given him the ability to speak Parseltongue which, now that he spoke it more often thanks to Nagini, he realized he really liked. Voldemort didn't really have any desire to remove it, since it was his soul piece and all, and Harry didn't really care to have it removed. So they simply left it be as it was.

After that, Harry had written to his friends-to those who he knew cared about him and would be pleased to know he was safe, and had Dobby, still as eager as always, deliver the letters so that they wouldn't be intercepted.

In the beginning of August, all of those people had come to the manor with the both Dobby and Winky's (who was finally ready to heal from her ordeal) help. Harry had found it so strange to be sitting in a room with Ron, Hermione, Fred, George, Bill, Charlie, Remus, Snape, Malfoy Sr, and Voldemort, drinking tea and discussing things calmly.

They had remained there for hours, talking things through, discussing why they wanted to change their stance, figuring out what they could and couldn't offer if they became neutral or joined the Dark. But eventually, they had reached a conclusion.

Those who had been 'Light' would remain neutral, and aid the Dark if they agreed with what it was that Voldemort wanted them to do, or if Harry himself asked for their help. They would not be marked, and a different method of contacting them would be designed. Since they were not going to be entirely on the Dark's side, torturing and killing was something they would only do if strictly necessary.

For now, while certain plans were still up in the air, Bill, Charlie, and Remus would remain as Order members-spies of sorts, just for the time being, just until Harry turned seventeen. None of them were there all too often anyway. Remus was always being sent off to recruit werewolves, even though he had said multiple times that it was pointless, Charlie was still mainly working in Romania for the most part, and despite now working in London, Bill was still very busy with everything he had to do with his own job.

While Fred and George  _were_  of age, they had never really been welcomed as members of the Order. They suspected Dumbledore thought them too idiotic to understand what he was talking about. ...Maybe it also had to do with the fact that they would question most everything he said. Because of that, they rarely attended the meetings, preferring to spend their time at their new joke shop, or creating new products and ideas.

Ron and Hermione, along with Neville and Luna, the latter two of whom hadn't been able to meet the Dark Lord yet, but who their friends had spoken for, were just going to continue on pretending everything was normal. They would go back to Hogwarts and continue their studies and act as if everything they were told was perfectly true. But only for now.

And it was then that it was decided that Harry definitely couldn't return to Hogwarts. The Order, unsurprisingly, was aware he was missing. It was Mrs Figg who had noticed, and she had informed Dumbledore immediately, who had sent Tonks and Vance to investigate. The Dursleys hadn't seemed to care either way, but the two Order members had found Harry's belongings, and it was only when they had gone through them back at headquarters that they had realized a couple of things were missing.

They weren't sure what that meant. Some of them thought Harry had been kidnapped. Others thought he had taken his prized possessions and run away. After all, why would his kidnappers take his wand, Invisibility Cloak, and broom? They didn't seem to know about the other things. Taking his wand made sense, the cloak as well, but the broom? Why would a kidnapper take that?

No, it was more likely that Harry simply ran away. He was a teenage boy, was at that rebellious stage, and after his godfather's death, perhaps he simply wanted some time alone. Surely he was smart and savvy enough to keep himself safe over the summer. Surely they would see him again on September first.

Oddly enough, it was Dumbledore who said all this. Dumbledore who assured all the others of this.

Harry knew he wasn't going to be able to explain where he had spent the summer, if he went back to Hogwarts. His Occlumency skills were basically non-existent, and it would be all too easy for Dumbledore to learn the truth. He didn't want that truth revealed just yet.

And according to Voldemort, he wasn't really missing out if he didn't go back to school. Harry could still learn everything he would have in the castle, here at the manor. There were hundreds of books in the library, intelligent and slightly more neutral Death Eaters to tutor him, and the Dark Lord himself was no slouch when it came to academics. In fact, he was far superior when it came to that. It was only because he was so busy that he couldn't teach the teen everything on his own.

Harry wasn't going to be able to see his school friends all too often, but the others were allowed to visit him whenever they pleased, so at least he wasn't going to get lonely or anything. And with the massive, warded backyard, Harry, while unable to actually play Quidditch, was at least going to be able to fly to his heart's content.

All in all, it didn't seem too bad, and would give him a year to think about what he really wanted to do in terms of the war...

* * *

With September first and the start of the new school term approaching, Harry and his friends had gathered in one of the many large sitting rooms at Riddle Manor. This was to be their last time seeing one another for a while.

Hermione, sitting beside Ron on the couch, sighed. "Oh, I'm going to miss you, Harry."

"Hey, at least things'll be quiet with him gone!" Ron pitched in, sounding more than a little amused.

Harry laughed. "You'll probably have the most peaceful school year ever without me around! And you can still write to me, Hermione. I'm not dying or anything. I'll be right here! You can come visit over Christmas break!"

"Yes, I know, but-!"

"Come on, Hermione, we'll be fine," Neville assured her.

"What about the DA?" asked Luna curiously, head cocked and wide eyes on Harry.

Harry blinked in surprise, then cocked his own head in thought. "Well, there isn't anything I can do about it myself, but if you guys think it's still necessary, then I don't see why you can't continue it on your own."

"That's a fair point," Hermione agreed with a nod. "Umbridge will be gone, of course, but the Headmaster hasn't informed any of us who the new Defence professor will be. I doubt they can be any  _worse_  than that-that vile excuse for a woman, but it  _is_  possible."

"It doesn't have to only be Defence either," Harry pointed out. "You can use the DA to help everyone with other subjects as well. It isn't as if everyone has an easy time with every class other than just that. Take Potions for example. You're probably the only one at the proper level for that, Hermione. So you can help the others with that. And Neville's a genius at Herbology, so he can help with that. And Ron's pretty damn good with Charms, and Luna with anything related to magical creatures."

As Neville blushed and Luna smiled contently, Hermione eyed Harry in surprise. "You know...I never thought of that before. We can treat it as a study group of sorts. Those of us who won't or can't get the extra help we need, can get it here instead."

"We'll have to change the name though," Ron added with a frown.

Hermione's face twisted into a look of distaste. "Yes,  _that_  we will most certainly have to do."

"Shall we go?" asked Luna abruptly. "It's getting late. Daddy will be worried if I don't get home soon."

It was Neville who first agreed. "I think we should head out too. Gran won't be happy if I get back after dark."

Ron nodded, then stretched. "Damn, you're right. Mum'll get pissed too. She thinks Hermione and I went to see Luna, so if we aren't back-"

"She might contact Luna's dad to check on us." Hermione sighed. "Alright, let's get going then. I'd rather the entire Order not lecture us for this."

And that was that. Harry accompanied his friends to the foyer where Dobby and Winky were summoned to get everyone back where they were meant to be. The group said their goodbyes, and it was when they disappeared, that Voldemort silently entered the room.

"Your friends have returned home?"

Turning to him, Harry nodded. "Yeah. Dobby will come back to let me know they got back safe, but it should be fine."

"Hmm, dinner has been prepared. Are you hungry enough to eat right now? It's a bit early for you, I know."

"I'm starving, actually." He grinned. "I spent lunchtime talking more than I did eating." He fell into step beside the Dark Lord as they left the foyer together.

"Come now, Harry, you know how Nagini fusses when you don't eat properly."

"Hey, she only knows about it when  _you_  tell her!"

"You would be surprised with what she can learn on her own."

"Yeah, right!"

* * *

Even though Harry had had nearly two months to come to terms with not going back to Hogwarts, he still felt rather down when September first came around. Fortunately, Fred and George came to visit, perhaps because of that very reason, and kept him distracted all day by chatting about this and that, discussing their shop and pranks, and flying out back.

Harry's own tutoring sessions were to begin in a few days, but at least today he had the twins to keep him busy. Voldemort was busy planning a raid, he knew, so the Dark Lord remained out of sight all day.

As promised, Harry currently had very little to do with the war. He was still aware of what was happening, of course. Voldemort made sure he knew, and Harry sometimes sat in on Death Eater meetings while hidden under his Invisibility Cloak. Voldemort also often asked for his opinion on things. He said that even though his mind likely wasn't going to change, he wanted to know what the teen thought about whatever the topic was. Harry didn't mind. He liked being heard for once. It felt nice.

A week later, Harry's lessons began, and a schedule was prepared for him, a different Death Eater teaching him a different topic on a certain, set day of the week-including Potions, which Snape (who was  _definitely_  on the Dark Lord's side-take  _that_ , Dumbledore!) taught him for two hours every Sunday morning. The schedule  _did_  change around at times, since his tutors had jobs of their own or had to go on raids or missions, but things remained steady for the most part.

The Dark Lord taught Harry when he could, and though his lessons didn't occur quite as often as the others, Harry was really enjoying learning Parselmagic. But beyond that, he was also enjoying spending time with Voldemort himself.

He knew how weird that was-knew how messed up that was, but he didn't care. What did it matter anyway? He was doing all this because he wanted to be selfish, so if he enjoyed himself while doing it, that was good, wasn't it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *I think that's everything Harry owns that he really cares about, at least. Please do let me know if there's anything else. Comments? Kudos?


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A discussion in a Muggle playground leads to revelations, which ends up changing the war in most every way, for the better in some minds, and for the worse in others. 'Have you ever considered simply leaving?' 'Leaving?' AU summer after fifth year! Slash fic!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yo! Some of you have offered suggestions on what should happen in this fic, but I've already finished writing it, so yeah, sorry if you don't get what you want, but this was already hard enough to get out as it was without having to change things around part way through. Be happy you get an actually complete multi-chap fic from me. That's extremely rare. Thank you to all readers so far!

Days turned to weeks, and weeks to months, until, finally, an entire year went by. A year since Harry and Voldemort had had their conversation at that park in Little Whinging, a year since Harry had accepted Voldemort's hand, a year since Harry had become neutral, a year since everything had  _really_  begun. And in that time, everything had changed.

Harry's friends and Severus had all reported that when Harry hadn't returned to Hogwarts by the night of September second, Dumbledore had, quite literally, thrown a rather loud tantrum. In the Great Hall. During dinner. A photograph of it had been on the front page of every newspaper the next morning. Harry had found it hilarious.

The teen had spent most of his time focusing on his lessons and, besides Defence and Parselmagic, had quickly become surprisingly proficient in Potions. Severus still couldn't believe it. Harry still wasn't sure what had caused the improvement.

Maybe it was because he wasn't in that depressing dungeon classroom now. Maybe it was because no one was trying to sabotage him. Maybe it was because Severus was a little more relaxed. Maybe it was because Harry just wasn't so damn stressed anymore. But something had just...clicked, and now everything Severus explained made perfect sense! No one was complaining about this change.

Harry met his friends over the Christmas and Easter breaks, where they filled him in on what was happening at Hogwarts when it came to the students, and how the new DA was going. Since it was more of a study group than anything else, a lot more students had ended up joining it, including a handful of Slytherins, prompted by Draco who was still kind of annoying, but no longer acted like a pompous prick. A number of the professors were, apparently, quite pleased with the House unity going on. Dumbledore really, was the only one questioning it.

But with the Headmaster's strange behaviour of late, everyone except those blindly loyal to him were beginning to wonder if he was becoming senile. Nothing he did made sense anymore, and according to the students, he had what was clearly a very unhealthy obsession with Harry, always asking questions about him, and trying to figure out where he was.

Many were under the impression that Harry had known about this bizarre side of Dumbledore this entire time, and had finally had enough and run away to the north pole to live with the polar bears, or to the south pole to live with the penguins.

Neither Harry nor his friends were sure where that last bit of the rumour had come from, but at least the students were finally beginning to see Dumbledore's  _true_  colours.

Dumbledore caused himself a lot of lost respect, and it didn't help that he and certain Order members literally harassed people to join them-people who wanted to remain neutral. According to the old Headmaster and those under his thumb, there was  _only_  Light and Dark. Those were the only two options. A neutral party didn't exist, according to them. Anyone claiming otherwise was  _obviously_ Dark.

But while the Light was losing traction, the Dark was gaining it. It was as if the two sides had switched places. The Light was hitting everyone hard and fast, making rash judgements, and far too many mistakes, pushing people away from them. But the Dark was operating under a new system of sorts, a slow and steady one. They proposed facts and convincing arguments, yet had the power to fight back if needed, and the tact to know when to back away. A number of the Death Eaters (who now knew Harry was on their side), thought the change had something to do with the teen. The Dark Lord had changed after his arrival, and all in all, things were looking up for them.

There were more people joining their side each day, more laws that many would benefit from were being passed, and there was so much change happening so quickly.

But tensions between the two sides were rising. While no one knew for sure, they were positive the Light and Dark were going to collide, and soon too, at that. This collision was going to be a terrible, brutal one, but it was also going to lead to the end of all of this...

* * *

The people had been right. It was near Christmas-near Yule, when it happened, on Hogwarts' expansive ground. It had been a surprise attack, executed by the Dark. They had had no problems getting past the wards. They had a very skilled Curse Breaker on their side, though he remained mostly neutral, and it appeared as if the castle itself had twisted its own wards to aid Bill in letting them through. Perhaps Hogwarts too, understood that this was something that needed to be settled for good.

The battle had begun before Dumbledore could even call for the Order or Aurors. They arrived, of course, but the battle was already underway by that point. But their addition didn't pose too much of a problem. Many of them were skilled, certainly, but it was clear with just a glimpse that the Dark's number was vastly greater. That in itself gave them the upper hand.

Voldemort was there, of course, out on the front lines, throwing curses and killing. He was enjoying himself quite a bit, but that was to be expected. Lucius and Severus, his right and left hand men, remained near his side.

And soon enough, the Dark Lord found himself face to face with the self-proclaimed Light Lord, Alastor Moody and Minerva McGonagall standing on either of his sides.

"Ageing has not agreed with you, old man." It was best to start things lightly, petty though his words seemed. It was a good way to build irritation, small, but growing rapidly with each comment.

"Not all of us have the same luxury you do, Tom."

"You could have done the same as I. You had the opportunity. It is not so difficult."

Dumbledore smiled. "That may be true, but I had no desire to make myself immortal. I don't fear death, you see."

Voldemort sneered. "I fear nothing."

The old Headmaster tutted. "Come now, Tom, lying is beneath you."

"It is," the Dark Lord agreed pleasantly, "though you, surely, cannot say the same of yourself. You have done things that have been...questionable, to say the least, most recently. Going senile, I have heard. You have lost much of your standing, and many others have lost respect."

"Tom-"

"Of course, you needn't worry about me, Dumbledore. I never had respect for you in the first place, so there was nothing to lose." He smirked when he heard a suspicious sounding snicker coming from his right, where Lucius was standing. "Now..." He raised his wand again, stroking the yew gently. "Shall we? I would rather not waste time. My young lover will be so very disappointed if I am not there when he wakes in the morning."

Dumbledore's eyes widened. "Lover?"

"Indeed. You know him quite well, though it has been over a year since you have last seen him."

"Who? Who is-? No-no, it can't-Har-"

Voldemort attacked, and the only reason Dumbledore survived it was because Moody was paying enough attention to block it for him. And so the battle not only resumed, but gained intensity. It was clear who had the advantage.

The Dark Lord was younger than the Light Lord, his right and left hands younger than those Dumbledore had chosen for himself. The younger ones had more energy, quicker reflexes, and a far more vast arsenal of spells, thanks to their magical orientation.

There was one way this had to go. There was only one way this was  _going_  to go. The future didn't look too bright for the Light, to say the least. But the Dark? That Dark was thriving...

And when the cries, and flashes, and smoke faded, one Lord stood tall over the still body of the other, sprawled out on the ground, surrounded by other injured and dead. And then there was a scream. A scream of shock. A scream of pain. A scream of terror.

Voldemort turned to look at Molly Weasley, who stood pale and shaking beside her injured husband who was clutching his bloodied side, both of them staring down at Dumbledore in panic and disbelief.

How ironic that they would be the first he saw after all this. Molly and Arthur Weasley, so blinded by Dumbledore and his idiocy that five of their own children had turned against them and joined the Dark Lord, neutral though they preferred to be. The final two children were a Ministry stooge and a gullible little girl raised to believe she would marry the Boy-Who-Lived. How foolish.

There were more screams, other Light members finally beginning to notice what had happened, finally beginning to understand what it meant. And there was laughter too. Snickers and scoffs and chuckles and full blown laughter, all from those who either supported the Dark, or at least stood against the Light.

"It is time," Voldemort spoke softly, "for change."

* * *

Immediate plans were made on the spot. Who would deal with the clean up, who would take charge over the funerals for both sides, who would help with the healing of the injured-regardless of which side they had been on (so long as they didn't attack anyone), who would be sent to the Ministry, who would become the new Head at Hogwarts.

Things would be better detailed, explained, and fine-tuned later, but for the present, and next few weeks no doubt, this was going to have to do.

"What will you do now, My Lord, now that you have finally gotten rid of the old man?" Lucius inquired curiously.

Voldemort raised a brow, and Severus, at his other side, scoffed.

"He means in the coming future, My Lord. I believe we are all aware of what you plan to do in the immediate. Harry will, no doubt, be quite pleased to hear the good news."

"I have not yet decided," the Dark Lord replied. "Perhaps I will take the place of Minister. Perhaps I will take the place of Headmaster here at the castle. Harry and I will talk it through later on."

"Of course."

They were being watched as they spoke, some in admiration, others in fear, but few spoke. There was fear, a great deal of it lingering in the air. Voldemort knew he was going to have to wait for it to clear somewhat before he truly began making his changes, but that was fine. That was going to feed into his plans regardless.

Pleased with how things had gone, Voldemort, Lucius, and Severus began making their way across the grounds towards the gates, all of them somewhat amused when those in their way moved aside as they approached. Even now, none of them spoke, though the Death Eaters inclined their heads at their Lord as he passed.

The three were left alone at the massive gates that stood open, and it was here that they briefly once more discussed and then finalized their immediate plans. Lucius was going to have to make sure things went smoothly at the Ministry, and Severus at Hogwarts, for the next couple of days, because the Dark Lord did not wish to be disturbed for the next forty eight hours or so. Unless it was an emergency neither of the men could handle.

And so the Dark Lord vanished in silence, and the moment he was gone, it was as if Hogwarts herself breathed a sigh of relief. Lucius and Severus exchanged a glance, and in silence, made their way back towards the castle.

There had been deaths, many of them, but fortunately, more had been injured than had died. That was good for both sides, really. Voldemort disliked spilling magical blood. Exceptions had to be made, naturally, but it was something better avoided, especially as a number of young people, barely twenty years old, had been involved in the battle on the Light's side-some with the Dark as well.

It was good, really, that all of this had happened now, while the Dark had had the advantage. There was no doubt that the death count would have been far higher had the roles been reversed...

* * *

Ron, Hermione, Neville, Luna, Fred, and George meanwhile, were all gathered in the twins' flat in Diagon Alley-the one above their joke shop, awaiting news on how the battle had gone. They had been informed by Bill, Charlie, and Remus that it was going to happen today, the three of them having gone to attend, but not exactly take part in the battle. They would be there as backup of sorts, only getting involved if necessary.

The group was nervous. They were sure things had gone well, but couldn't help it. Dumbledore was a very crafty man, after all, so there really was no telling what he might do when cornered.

It was late though, or very early, the sun only now beginning to rise. Harry was surely still fast asleep. The green eyed teen had no idea about the battle. Voldemort hadn't wanted to tell him. Not because he didn't trust him, or didn't want to, but because he-they all, really, knew that if Harry found out so many he cared for would be there fighting, he would feel compelled to be there himself, even if he didn't really want to. He always  _had_  had a bit of a saving people thing, even if said people could take care of themselves.

So while Harry slept away at Riddle Manor, his school friends sat cramped together in the twins' little sitting room, wanting to speak but unsure of what to say, nursing Butterbeers while they waited, trying not to nod off to sleep.

They honestly had no idea how long they waited for-hours certainly, before the front door suddenly opened, and Bill walked in, followed by Charlie, and then Remus. Luna's bottle slipped out of her grasp and hit the floor where it shattered, though no one noticed it as they all jumped to their feet.

The three men looked mostly unharmed. Bill had a jagged cut running along the length of his cheek, Charlie was holding an arm around his mid-section, and Remus seemed to have a number of cuts and bruises, but all three of them were not only standing, but smiling reassuringly.

"Are-?"

"Everyone's alright," Remus assured quickly, even as Hermione, wand already in hand, moved across the room to check on them. "There were some casualties, but things fortunately went well, for the most part."

"Went-went well?"

"Well enough," Charlie said with a nod, gingerly sitting down into the seat his youngest brother offered him.

"Then-?"

"Just as you're thinking," Bill replied with a grin, accepting the tube one of the twins handed him.

"Hell yeah!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments? Kudos?


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A discussion in a Muggle playground leads to revelations, which ends up changing the war in most every way, for the better in some minds, and for the worse in others. 'Have you ever considered simply leaving?' 'Leaving?' AU summer after fifth year! Slash fic!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yo! This is the mostly smut chapter. There isn't much here besides that, which is why it's a bit shorter than the first three. Smut isn't something I write all too often, and I still feel incredibly awkward when I'm doing it, so I hope this is okay. Like everything else here, it isn't particularly detailed. Thank you to all readers so far!

Voldemort appeared in the manor's foyer, and he wasted no time before making his way through the hall and up the stairs. The place was silent, and looked to be devoid of life, but he knew that wasn't quite true. And he found that life exactly where he had left him, sprawled out on top of dark green sheets in the centre of a massive bed situated in a large, extravagant bedroom.

Half tangled in the sheets, Harry lay there fast asleep, the expression on his face mimicking what the Dark Lord was currently feeling-peace. Voldemort peered at him for a moment, and then walked past him and into the nearby bathroom, where he stripped down and bathed. Harry didn't like the smell of blood. It reminded him too much of all the suffering he had gone through, particularly as a child.

But all of that was done now. Harry wasn't going to have to deal with any of that anymore. No more pain. No more suffering. He was safe now, and could finally live the life he wanted to live, no matter what anyone said or how much they protested. It was his life to live, no one else's.

Clean, dry, and not having bothered to redress, Voldemort returned to the bedroom, finding Harry had rolled over onto his front, and the sheets had slipped down rather low, revealing a lovely sight indeed. Approaching the bed, he climbed onto it silently and then reached out, running a pale hand down a tanned back. Harry, ever the light sleeper, woke immediately at the touch.

"Hey," he greeted tiredly.

"Good morning, Little Serpent." His hand travelled back up, and then down again in a slow, soothing motion. "I have news."

Blinking sleepily, Harry shuffled around until his head was resting on his hands on the pillow, so he could look at the man properly. "Good news, I hope?"

"Very good news."

"Oh?" Curiosity crossed the teen's face, eyes searching for what might be the answer, but finding nothing, though he hadn't expected otherwise. He could never get anything out of the Dark Lord that he didn't already want to reveal. "C'mon, don't leave me hanging. What is it? What happened?"

"Dumbledore is dead."

"...What!?" Harry jolted up so quickly he nearly bashed his head against Voldemort's chin. "Dead? How? When?"

Stroking Harry's hair rather casually, Voldemort explained what had happened. Harry wasn't pleased, at first, that he had been left out, but he got over it pretty quickly, because hadn't staying out of the war been the  _point_  of all this? Instead, he focused on a different part of the recount.

"So, Dumbledore's really dead?"

"He is really dead."

"Seriously?"

Voldemort chuckled. "Seriously."

"I-I'm free?"

The Dark Lord cupped the teen's cheek gently. "Yes Harry, you're finally free." And then he found himself with a lap full of naked Harry. He smiled slightly and brought his arms around him, holding him against him. "Pleased?"

"Immensely," Harry replied with a grin.

"Good, shall we celebrate our victory?"

"Cele-gah!" Harry found himself flat on his back, Voldemort hovering over him, a smirk on his pale face. Once he had gotten over the shock, Harry reached up and stroked the man's bare chest. "Well?" he questioned with a raised brow. "I thought we were going to celebrate?" He lifted his hips, pressing against the man above him.

Voldemort reached down between their bodies and curled long fingers around Harry's rapidly hardening cock. "Already so eager, Little Serpent?"

"Mmm hmm. Gonna kiss me now?"

The Dark Lord sighed. "So demanding," he murmured. But he kissed him anyway. He felt Harry smile against him, but a single slow stroke had that cheeky smile being replaced by a sharp gasp.

Coiling his arms around Voldemort's neck and shoulders, Harry arched his hips up into the hand around him, groaning as the fist tightened slightly. He pulled back from the kiss when he felt fingers sliding down lower, and bit down on his lip when he realized those fingers were wet. He must have used a lubrication spell, instead of the real thing.

A finger rubbed over him slowly, but didn't do anything more. "What's with the teasing?" he demanded, trying to push down against it. He wanted the damn thing inside him already! What the hell was he waiting for!?

Voldemort lowered his head, and when he replied, it was in a whisper against Harry's ear. "There is no need to rush, Little Serpent. We have the entirety of two days before we will be disturbed." He chuckled lowly. "You'll not be leaving this bed anytime soon, I fear."

A desperate keen left Harry, and he was sure that all the blood in his body had just gone straight to his cock. And then he hissed when that teasing finger suddenly pushed into him.

"You like the sound of that, don't you Harry?" Voldemort continued on to whisper in his ear, tongue occasionally flicking out to trace along the shell of the teen's ear. "Trapped in this bed and at my mercy, subject to my whim for two entire days."

"I can-ah!" A second long finger eased into him. "I can-I can always just get out of the bed," he retorted. It wasn't like he minded, of course, but banter like this between them was all too common.

"Not if I tie you up." The words were punctuated by a sharp nip to his earlobe.

When Harry laughed in response, the sound was rather strangled. "Maybe next time," he replied, one of his hands leaving his partner's neck so he could run his fingers up and down his chest, enjoying the feeling of the strength that deceived so many. "Maybe-maybe I wouldn't min-gah! More dammit!"

"So impatient," Voldemort chastised, though he carefully eased a third finger into the tight passage anyway. "I thought I had taught you that much at least this past year."

"You-hah-you're talking way-hah-way too much right now-shit!"

"Am I indeed?" He stroked over Harry's prostate, and used his other hand to pin the teen's hips down when he bucked up. He was already all flushed and sweaty. It was so  _easy_  to reduce Harry into this state. "This is a celebration, Little Serpent, there-"

"Exactly! So celebrate by fucking me! I want your cock in me, dammit!"

Voldemort laughed. He really was going to have to give him a proper lesson in patience, but that could wait. For now, he would do as Harry so keenly desired. This celebration was for the both of them, after all.

Harry tried and failed to stop the whine that left him when the fingers pulled out, but nodded and kept his legs apart when asked of him, as a pillow was situated beneath him to raise his hips up a little. And after another lubrication spell-

"Fuuuuuuuuck," Harry groaned, short nails digging into Voldemort's shoulders as the man pushed into him little by little. He knew it was partly to tease him, and partly to make sure he didn't hurt him. And it worked too, on both counts. It always did.

Voldemort kept his eyes on Harry. The flush in his cheeks had travelled down to his neck, his eyes had fallen shut, concealing the stunning emerald from his sight, and he had reached down, gripping his thighs, holding himself open for the Dark Lord. He was being stretched open, bit by bit, and he fucking loved it.

But Harry was hardly the only one being affected. Had his eyes been open, he would have seen Voldemort watching him raptly, jaw clenched. One of his large hands was on Harry's hip, but the other was balled into a fist next to the teen's head on the pillow. Regardless of the amount of preparation before hand, Harry always gripped him so damn tightly, and that, coupled by the heat, made it such a struggle to keep still once he had made it to a point where he could go no further.

Breathing easing slightly, Harry opened his eyes and wriggled his hips a little. "You-you can move now," he assured, death grip on the man's shoulder loosening finally.

Voldemort inclined his head and pulled his hips back, only for them to suddenly snap back forward. Harry cried out in surprise, but it only took him a moment to be able to match the quick and almost harsh rhythm that was set.

There was no more talking now, neither of them having the spare breath to even attempt it, although being unable to form even a coherent thought probably didn't help matters, in Harry's case.

Instead, the teen reached down to jerk himself off as Voldemort fucked the ever living daylights out of him. A perfect way to celebrate something, if one were to ask for Harry's humble opinion.

Of course, the problem with having a Dark Lord for a lover, was that said Dark Lord had far more stamina, which meant Harry was left an incoherent mess long before Voldemort was even out of breath. It was completely unfair, in Harry's mind, and exactly what Voldemort loved.

Harsh rhythm not even faltering, Voldemort brushed Harry's sweaty fringe out of his eyes, then leaned down to kiss him heatedly. Then the teen keened again, a low, needy whine escaping his swollen lips.

"Are you going to come, Little Serpent?"

"Fu-hah-yeah-hah-" Voldemort's hand replaced his around his prick, and jerked him off to the same speed his cock was fucking his arse. "Da-damn-" He was close, so damn close. He just need something, just-just  _something_  to set him off. And then Voldemort hit his already abused prostate yet again, and he was done.

He scrabbled for purchase, trying to find something to grab, stars appearing before his eyes, vision blackening as he came harder than he was sure he ever had before, spilling all over himself. He thought he heard Voldemort groan, but he was sure he had temporarily gone deaf.

He had barely begun to relax, his ears ringing faintly, when Voldemort finally stilled, and Harry could feel him pulsating, could feel him spilling inside him, and god, he was already getting hard again!

Slowly, Voldemort pulled back out, only for him to grab Harry's face in both his hands, and pull him up into a harsh, hungry kiss that had the teen utterly breathless in barely a second.

When the kiss ended, the Dark Lord hardly moved away, red eyes boring into Harry's green, darkened with a lust that had only grown, rather than faded.

"We haven't finished yet, Harry. We have barely yet begun." He kissed him again, and then pulled away once more. "We still have so much time. By the end of it, I will have you not only begging, but  _screaming_  for me."

Harry's cock twitched back to life. This was going to be a very,  _very_  long forty eight hours...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, only the epilogue left and then we're done. Comments? Kudos?


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A discussion in a Muggle playground leads to revelations, which ends up changing the war in most every way, for the better in some minds, and for the worse in others. 'Have you ever considered simply leaving?' 'Leaving?' AU summer after fifth year! Slash fic!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yo! Sorry about the wait guys! The evening after I posted the previous chapter, I ended up getting sick. It got much worse the next day, and I barely got out of bed. The day after that was still just as bad, and my mum was worried because I kept getting fevers that were close to being dangerous, so I went to a walk-in clinic. Turns out I have a sinus infection and bronchitis. It fucking sucks. I've been on antibiotics for about three days, so I'm getting better, but I'm still nowhere near back to normal. This is my first time back online since the twenty first though, so that's something. Again, sorry about the wait. Got sick completely out of nowhere. Also, please excuse any typos-I'm still not feeling all too well and I think my fever just broke again, because I'm sweating. Ugh. I've lost count of how many times this has happened over the past few days.
> 
> So, here we are, the last chapter of this thing. Thank you to all readers!

Four years had gone by since Harry had accepted Voldemort's hand in the park, and three years since the war had finally come to an end. So much had changed, and yet, at the same time, everything felt so natural, as if this was how things had been meant to be in the first place.

Not everything was perfect, of course-there was still a lot of damage that needed to be repaired. But for the most part, things finally seemed to be heading in the right direction, and that was good.

After much discussion, Voldemort decided to give Lucius the position of Minister of Magic, while plenty of other Death Eaters got other jobs at the Ministry-jobs they were actually qualified for. Right now, the big, future project was to build an orphanage for magical children, as Harry had insisted. Many had been under the impression that all Muggleborns were going to be imprisoned, or tortured, or killed, but that didn't happen at all. In fact, not much changed for them.

Surprisingly, Voldemort had not only become the Headmaster at Hogwarts, but also took on the post of Defence Arts (formerly known as Defence Against the Dark Arts) professor, just as he had always wanted. ...Paperwork was a nightmare.

Harry, meanwhile, much to the surprise of, well, everybody, became Severus' apprentice, thanks to his new found skill and understanding of Potions. With a bit more study, he would be qualified to attempt to earn his Mastery, at which point he would take over as Hogwarts' Potions Master, so Severus could finally stop teaching. He had never really liked the job anyway.

All in all, things were okay. Not the best, not yet, but they were sure to get there if everything continued on as they currently were.

And today, on what was a warm, cloudless day during Easter break, everyone had gathered in the largest sitting room at Riddle Manor. Ron and Hermione were there, having taken the day off from their jobs at the Ministry, which had been easy to do since Lucius was there too. Neville and Luna were there as well, both of them having just returned from a trip to the Amazon. And there was Bill, his cheek scarred from that cut he'd received during the war, and Charlie, who was just visiting from where he was now working in China, and Remus who taught History of Magic at Hogwarts, and Severus too, all gathered together. Fred and George were off in a corner, plotting with Rodolphus and Rabastan, and the few others were just chatting amongst themselves.

Everyone fell silent and moved in a bit closer when Harry and Voldemort finally entered the room, coming to a stop in front of them all, facing them.

"We have news!" Harry announced, clearly taking the lead here. "Voldemort and I are welcoming a new addition to our family!"

Said family, everyone knew, included Hedwig, Nagini, Dobby, Winky, Mimi (Dobby and Winky's little girl), Shadow-Harry's kitten, and Xander.

"A new addition?" Ron repeated in confusion.

"Two, actually," Voldemort corrected calmly. He almost looked like he was going along with this just because Harry wanted it. That wasn't rare though. He always indulged the younger man. After all, Harry was the one who had to put up with a Dark Lord, and sometimes, that wasn't as fun as it sounded.

"Two? Then, you mean-?" Hermione's eyes widened, and she clapped a hand over her mouth in shock.

Harry, positively glowing, happily twined his fingers together with Voldemort's. "Yep! It's  _exactly_  as you think."

Voldemort simply responded by bringing the young man into his arms, setting his free hand over Harry's flat, firm stomach, Harry placing his own free hand over top, looking very pleased with himself.

Grinning, Harry finally properly announced the fantastic news. "Hedwig and Xander's babies just hatched!"

Luna was the first to cheer, but others quickly followed suit. Everyone knew just how much this meant to Harry-especially after the Dursleys' 'arrest'. He was finally beginning to get the giant family he had always wanted. Close friends, House-Elves, snakes, cats, owls-they were all family, in Harry's mind. Having Voldemort at his side was just the icing on the cake. And speaking of icing-

Voldemort, arms still around Harry, lowered his head, mouth brushing Harry's ear. "Well, Harry?"

"Well what?" Harry questioned in confusion, watching as half the people in the room rushed out to head up to see the two baby owls.

Voldemort chuckled lowly, and pressed heated kisses along Harry's neck and shoulder. "Shall we celebrate?"

FIN

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *bursts out laughing* I wonder how many of you thought Harry was about to announce he'd been knocked up or something. I don't write people pregnancy, male or female. Gross. But baby owls are another thing altogether. Baby animals in general, actually. Edit: because I'm already annoyed by the kids comments. No kids. No bio kids. No fostered kids. No adopted kids. Only animals. That's it. Imagine otherwise if you like, but don't tell me about it, because I don't give a shit, and it only serves to piss me off.
> 
> Fun fact: I got the title from Kingdom Hearts 2. The game begins with Sora saying, "A scattered dream that's like a far off memory. A far off memory that's like a scattered dream." It was the first thing that popped into my head, and I liked it, so I used it.
> 
> I actually really enjoyed writing this fic, the fact that it was short helped a whole lot, in this case, and updates were quick too-this last chapter would have been up on the twenty second if I hadn't gotten sick. I hope you guys enjoyed reading it too. So, for the final time, comments? Kudos?


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